Sk8r Boi
by dhbPATHWAY1997
Summary: Arthur's quite the punk, and that means he's not good enough for oh-so-perfect Francis. And years after Francis has left Arthur in the dust, he's forced to face the fact that that boy might have been everything he ever wanted. But that's too bad, because now, he's taken. Songfic: "Sk8r Boi" by Avril Lavigne; USUK


Arthur was a dude, and so was Francis. It wasn't obvious to anyone but those closest to them, but Arthur loved Francis.

Well, Arthur had just begun to learn how to have fun, and he was doing it all kinds of right. He'd turned into what society called _punk_, with his messy hair, torn jeans and colorful ties. He'd learned to play the guitar like nobody's business, and could even sing. Arthur started dreaming.

Francis, on the other hand, was kind of that stuck-up, goody two-shoes kind of guy. He was taking theater, and he was pretty good at it. Francis was popular, and loved, but he would never _dream_ of doing anything considered punk by the rest of the school, or even hang out with Arthur. What more can I say? Arthur and Francis were really different.

Even if the Frenchman was a pervert and an annoying jerk, there was something about him that Arthur loved. It was probably because he was really romantic or good-looking or some crap. What no one knew was that secretly, Francis wanted Arthur, too. Maybe he liked the bad boy getup, or had a thing for guitarists, I don't know. But Francis's best friends, Gilbert and Antonio, wouldn't stand for it. They told Francis that he was too good for Arthur, that they wouldn't be right together. And Francis listened to them, standing by as Gilbert and Antonio mocked Arthur for his baggy clothes.

Arthur was badass, cool, and Francis paid him no attention outwardly. Apparently Arthur wasn't good enough for him. Francis had a handsome face, but his heart and mind weren't where they should have been. He needed to get his feet back on the ground.

Five years later, Francis sat at home, feeding the baby. The room was too still as he rocked her, feeling more alone with the peaceful little girl than he'd felt in a while. He was slowly becoming accustomed to being alone, though. It was something he didn't want to get used to.

Carefully, so as not to jostle the baby, he reached over for the TV remote and switched the channel from the news to MTV. What Francis saw shocked him – that _couldn't_ be Arthur Kirkland, onstage, playing his guitar with so much skill and confidence. No way.

Shifting the baby to one arm, Francis stood and went to the phone, dialing Gilbert's number.

"_Hallo_?" Gilbert asked, picking up on the first ring.

"Gil? Are you watching MTV?" Francis asked, still shell-shocked.

"Uh, _nein_. Why?"

"You'll never believe – I think Arthur's performing. You remember, Arthur Kirkland?"

"Oh, really?" asked Gilbert excitedly. "Sweet! You know, I got tickets to his concert tonight."

Francis was shocked further still. "You – you did?"

"Are you kidding? Yeah! He's almost as awesome as me! You up for going with me and Antonio tonight? Ditch the kid and have some fun?"

Francis frowned. "I'm not…'ditching the kid'…" he said quietly. "I'll have my neighbor Lily watch her. She's a nice girl."

"But you're coming?"

"_Oui_, I have to see this."

"Yes!" Gilbert cheered. "All right, we'll pick you up at eight!"

That night, Francis stood in the crowd of cheering, screaming, dancing fans, a little apart from Gilbert and Antonio, watching Arthur rock out, and feeling considerably small. Arthur played with such stage presence, knowing what he was doing and obviously loving it.

Francis suddenly felt a stab of regret. This performer, this artist, this man could have been _his_, but he'd turned him down. How much better would his life be if Francis could choose again?

Arthur was punk, a weirdo, but totally himself. Francis had dismissed him like he was a fly. He hadn't been 'his type' back then. Francis had his looks, and deep down, a good heart, but he couldn't always make the right decision. He could never know what choices he'd regret later. Only now, when Arthur was successful, happy, and slamming on his guitar could Francis see all that he was worth.

Well, sorry, bro, but you missed out. I can imagine it sucks to be you right now, 'cause Arthur's mine. Like all the tabloids know, the two of us aren't just best friends. Somehow, it looks like things are going to end well for us. For you? Well…good luck, man.

I guess it's too bad for you that all those years ago, you couldn't see the man that Arthur would become. There was – there _is_ so much more to Arthur than meets the eye, and you never took the time to give him a chance, or get to know him, to find those things. I guess I should thank you for that.

Arthur's a dude, and so am I. But at first glance, it's pretty obvious that we're in love. Haven't you read all about is in the magazines yet? He's told me before that I rock his world – isn't it cute when he uses puns? – and I'll unashamedly tell you that he rocks mine, too.

Arthur is Arthur, and that makes him perfect.

I let go of Arthur's hand, giving him a last smile before he went onstage. "See you later," I told him. "I'll be backstage after the show."

"I'll find you in the studio?" he suggested.

"Yup. You wanna finish that song? You know it'll be the next big hit."

Arthur grinned. "Sure." He glanced toward the stage, then back to me. "Wish me luck?"

I quickly leaned in and kissed him, then stepped back and smiled. "You don't need it, babe, but good luck."

Arthur grinned, slung his guitar strap over his shoulder, and walked out onstage. The yelling and cheers intensified as he waved, stepping up to the microphone.

And I watched my skater boy rock.

**A/N: Yes, yes, this is horrendously short. I know. I'm so sorry. But I **_**really**_** wanted to do this songfic, and it was all I could figure to go along with the lyrics. I hope you liked it anyway. :3**

**I own nothing. Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya; **_**Sk8r Boi**_** © Avril Lavigne**


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